


The Fire Underneath My Skin

by whitewolfbumble



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewolfbumble/pseuds/whitewolfbumble
Summary: No one got under your skin quite like Bucky Barnes. Fighting your feelings for him was a daily battle that you were determined to win. But not every battle can be won





	The Fire Underneath My Skin

The cool night air seeped into the room, mingling in with the warmth of the intimate gathering. The team was together, save a couple members, laughing and drinking and for once having fun.

You watched happily from your comfy spot on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and sinking down into the cushy fabric. On rare nights like this it was easy to smile and you did so freely. 

But that easy feeling shifted into something else. You might have outwardly stayed still but internally you tensed as you heard two sets of footsteps walking in. 

Steve, your friend and team member, confidant and leader.

Bucky, your… well, just Bucky.

You and he had been at odds from almost the start. Steve was at a loss, as was the whole team really. You were deadly in a fight, but friendly off the playing field generally. So your biting remarks and cold demeanour directed solely towards the Winter Soldier was a shock to everyone. 

What was even more surprising was the rise it always got out of him. The one who almost exclusively spoke with Steve, saying only the bare minimum to everyone else, would always bark back at your combative behaviour without fail.

Maybe it was your easy friendship with Steve that got under his skin. Or your cutting remarks somehow zeroing in on his unspoken insecurities. Or maybe it was because, underneath all of the showy, cocky displays and comments, you made him feel about _you_ the same way that you felt about _him_. 

The heat that pooled and rippled in your stomach whenever he walked into a room was infuriating. You expressed it with every cold word you spoke, unable to say or act how you really wanted too. It constricted your throat with aching, but your sarcastic and biting words somehow always made it through.

Tonight though was worse. It had been days since you had seen him, as Steve and he were out doing some recon for a mission. 

Some mob boss named Vicco was starting to trade in a knock-off serum a great deal like the ones that ran through their veins. Though really, the promise of super soldierdom was hollow: the side effects were deadly to most, harmful to all, and mildly successful in a few but only for a limited time. 

Not a good business plan, to kill off the bulk of your users at once, while slowly killing the others. But the ones that did survive were sticking to the mobster like glue and growing in numbers.

“Catch him?” you asked Steve as the two walked in, trying to completely ignore Bucky.

Though let’s be honest, that wouldn’t last long. You couldn’t help yourself. If you wouldn’t let yourself react to him how you wanted too, you had to engage with him in some way.

You were a glutton for punishment, to say the least.

“No, not yet. Recon was a success, we’ll be moving in to take him down shortly.” 

It had been a busy few weeks for most of the team, everyone pairing up and off on their own missions lately. No big evil that needed everyone together anyway. If Steve didn’t need two people on the mission, or if did need another member, he would’ve just asked so your next question was a little uncalled for.

“What, both of you just to take down one baddie?” you remarked, taking in Bucky’s appearance. 

Obviously they had just gotten back from their stakeout, both looking a little tired and haggard, and certainly had a bit of a sweaty odour creeping around them. Slowly your mind drifted to thoughts of Bucky in the shower he would be taking any minute…

“He’s a big player,” Bucky started, eyebrows furrowed, snapping you back up to his bright blue eyes. “We should be taking the whole damn team.”

Steve interrupted loudly with a question to Tony, knowing how this game would play out, with the two of you making remarks back and forth until he forced one of you to leave. But you weren’t quite done with this.

“Hmm, you’re right,” you said hushed and taunting, Tony now chattering above you. “You’re probably not up for it.” 

Your words escaped notice from the others, but not Bucky. His gaze was locked on you, intense and filled with a fire. Your own fire flickered in your stomach again, send waves out across your skin. He wanted you to look away, to crumble under his stare no doubt. But despite you wanting some sweet relief from the heat in his eyes and in your soul, you stubbornly wouldn’t give in.

Instead, you casually got up, sauntering over slowly and walking right past the man, eye contact unbreaking. You got close enough to brush up against his cold metal arm, the icy steel sending a tingling wave all over you.

Once you made it passed his line of sight you swallowed down that thrilling tingling feeling, cursing the man who made you feel like that.

“Maybe you should put on an extra layer of armour,” you muttered, pouring yourself another drink at the bar. “You know how well those neighbourhood _kids_ can throw a punch.”

This was pretty street level for the Avengers; they could’ve left this for some other masked vigilantes. But the serum made it personal. You could understand that, but it didn’t mean you would let it pass by unchecked.

You turned around, quickly face to face with a clearly angry Bucky, Steve’s arm holding him back from closing the mere two or so inches of space between you.

Honestly, it only took a couple words from either of you to get the other one going. And you liked how much of a rise you could get out of him.

“I heard that,” Steve replied with a bit of a smile before Bucky could go on the attack. “And don’t forget, I was one of those  _neighbourhood kids_ at one time.”

You waited to see if Bucky would say anything, his eyes boring into yours, stumbled jaw clenched. He was practically touching you, looming over you in a way that was maybe supposed to be threatening, but damn, you just found it fucking attractive. You spent the bulk of your energy in that moment doing two things: a) not tearing his lips apart with yours, and b) keeping your face in collected and neutral lines.

When he didn’t speak a word, you slowly tilted your head back to Steve.

“Let me know if you need a third, I’m around.” you said pleasantly.

Taking your drink, you wandered out of the room and down the hall, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you the whole way.

* * *

Sleep was a precious commodity, and you were cursing yourself for being up this late. You threw over another pillow on the living room couch, again, coming up empty.

This was not like you, forgetting your phone. It must have slipped out of your pocket during the little party earlier. Maybe you had gotten too distracted by one Bucky Barnes to realize.

“Damn it,” you muttered, pulling your hand through your hair. 

The room was quite dark, the only lighting coming from the underlighting of the bar counter. You debated grabbing another drinking and searching again.

_Screw it, I’ll just keep looking tomorrow,_ you thought.

Frustrated, you turned around in a huff, almost colliding with a wall of a person.

In shock you gasped, not used to being snuck up on. Bucky stood there, eyes not as intense as before but again, with that certain fire he had when looking at you.

“Fuck, Barnes!” you breathed, hand on your throat. 

Fucking stealth assassins and their fucking silent footsteps.

“What’re you doing here?” he questioned, obviously trying to hide the little thrill pulsing through him at catching you off guard.

He eyed you up and down slowly, like he was studying you. You crossed your arms, realizing quickly that he was fully dressed still and you were wearing your thin pajamas. What had he even been doing up this late?

You pushed past him, careful to make a little physical contact in case like a magnet your attraction made him stick to you.

“Looking for my phone, if you need to know for some reason,” you replied, just about making it to the door before a firm hand grabbed your arm, holding you back.

You turned, ready to fight either physically or verbally, and _again_ , he was practically on top of you, pulling you closer to him as you whipped around. 

This time his body _was_ touching yours. Intimately. You could feel his knee in between yours and thighs touching yours in the sickest kind of torture. You felt every breath ease in and out of his chest that was pressed against you, and he felt yours.

You were held- suspended- like this for what felt like an eternity, breath and bodies wrapped in each other. Unconsciously you were leaning back until your back hit the wall, though his body stayed on yours. The erupting heat was intoxicating and immobilizing. 

Bucky almost seemed amused, small half-smile curving his lips.

“You mean this one?” he said, holding up your phone in his free hand with definitely a smirk on his face.

“Ugh,” you grunted, grabbing it out his hand. 

You didn’t say another word, not trusting yourself too, and bolted out of there as fast as you could.

Wait… Had he _taken_ your phone when you were teasing him earlier?

He must have. He must’ve grabbed it somehow when you had stood face to face with him at the bar earlier. Jerk.

Taking the cool passage back to your bedroom, you tried to pull up all the times you and Bucky had been alone together. It was always late or early, with some kind of an excuse at why you were together. A missing phone. A forgotten water bottle. A suddenly remembered mission detail he hadn’t mentioned. The two other constants were your fluttering heart and his small smirk. 

Though this time your body was practically pinned under his… He had never gotten that close before, and he certainly had been getting closer to you lately…

Was he orchestrating all of this?

Ugh, you had to get this infuriating man _out_ of your head.

* * *

Maybe you weren’t the most outgoing person and you certainly never would have done this normally, but with Bucky melting you more day by day, you had to do something.

Apparently, in some whacked out mental state, you had agreed to go on a date. With a stranger. A _date_.

Cliched as it sounded, you met him- Brian Rushman- at a coffee shop. He happened to work at the CIA branch office here in New York, which sounded completely false at the time. But you still said yes for some deranged reason, somehow thinking smugly that that would show Bucky (for what and why he would even care, you really couldn’t say). It was insane and made no sense and you were _hating_ yourself for it now.

But it was too late to back out, and you supposed that this Brian guy didn’t sound too bad. You vetted him intensely and gone as far as getting Nat to do a once over too. Both times, the guy came up clean.

Now, as you prepared for what would certainly be a disaster of a night, you wished that he hadn’t been so squeaky clean. You needed a distraction from Barnes, and Brian would fit the bill looks-wise, but you wanted some kind of excuse to back out.

Maybe if Bucky had asked you out instead, you wouldn’t feel this way. Not that you would have said yes. Or even wanted too.

Right?

_Attraction_ didn’t mean you wanted anything _more_. Not like a proper date or a relationship or something.

…Right?

_Ugh._

Looking yourself over in the mirror, you sighed. Maybe you should try not to look so good? You were having a _great_ hair day, your little dress was walking that line between cute and sinful, and your makeup looked effortless (when yeah, you had drawn out getting ready by spending hours on it).

That was when the call came in.

Your earpiece buzzed, still in your ear despite the countdown to your date getting down to the wire.

“Y/N, your offer still stand to help out here?” came Steve’s voice. “We need back-up down here fast. ”

“I’m in!” you said, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair and practically running for the door.

Small mercies do exist. You weren’t sure if you were happy to be canceling the date or at the prospect of seeing Bucky…

* * *

The only thing you could think of when you looked out was: _shitshow_. 

Practically an army of juiced up thugs with weapons were standing in an old warehouse, surrounding one small, insignificant-looking man. Several pallets with boxes stacked high and securely plastic wrapped were there too, and it wasn’t much of a guess to assume it was filled with the defective serum.

“Shipment schedule moved up,” Bucky said, low in your ear next to you. “We have to move tonight.”

The three of you were on an opposing roof, lying down on your stomachs to keep from view. The black, moonless sky worked in your favour tonight, only teeny little stars peeking through.

“No shit, that would kill a small country.” you put down the night goggles and looked to your other side to Steve. “Why didn’t you know about this sooner?”

The loud rumbling of a transport truck sounded, pulling in and blocking the ringleader from view. A couple more drove in, cluing you in that there was more than one destination too. The three of you had to stop this now before you lost this shipment forever, it spreading out across the country.

_Shit._

“We gotta move!” you whispered, crawling up and lightly running across the roof, keeping your head low. You took the ladder down the side of the building, gravel crunching under your feet as you stepped down to ground level. The boys had followed suit.

“Wait, what the hell?!” Bucky sounded.

You pulled out and pointed your gun, your instincts taking over as you looked for the source of the danger. Seeing nothing, you looked to Bucky, who was watching you, almost with a crumpled, flushed look on his face.

“What?” you whispered.

“What the hell are you wearing?!”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” you questioned, smirk starting to spread across your face. The more flushed his face got at your appearance, the wider it grew. “I think I look damn good. And I could still kick your ass in this Barnes, so can we get on with the mission before it’s pointless?”

* * *

Your fist cracked against one thug, only minimally damaging him, though it knocked him off balance. A quick kick swung up and clocked him the face next, and that did some damage with a satisfying cracking ringing out as the man went down. 

You quickly dropped down, dodging the next assailant while another lunged at you. Turning your dodge into a roll, scrapping your legs and arms on the concrete, breath heaving and movements lightning fast.

Coming up with your back against the brick wall, you saw a rotting plank and grabbed it. Slashing it across their faces as they reached for you, you slammed the splintered end across both their jaws, sending their asses to the ground.

“Thanks for inviting me!” you said sarcastically, both Steve and Bucky having a slightly easier time. But only slightly, you noted.

These guys were the real deal, with whatever was pumped into them making even your quick reflexes seem second rate. But they were bigger and bulkier than you and didn’t have near as much drive as you did. A bigger, slower target was a target you could handle.

And there was no way you would let these thugs win.

A panicked choking sound hit your ears and as your next kick swung up, hitting a hulked-out minion in the chest, your eyes scanning to find Bucky. You just knew it was him.

A few feet away, the deadly assassin you found generally irresistible was hunched over, then fell to his knees on the ground.

“Steve!” you yelled out for help, running towards Bucky the second the man you were fighting was unconscious on the ground.

Skidding to a halt you dropped painfully to your knees in front of the man.

“Oh god, Bucky!” you whispered, horrified.

He looked awful, skin as pale as paper, eyes bloodshot and dilating wildly. He sputtered and choked on nothing, reaching up for you. On his arm, still stuck into him through his clothes, was a thick syringe. One of them had gotten too close and stuck him with the poison.

_Oh god!_

“Steve!” you yelled again, frantically looking around for your friend.

But he was across the way, held up by two thugs with the same look on his face, except his eyes were struggling to stay open. He tried to speak, head lulling. For some reason they didn’t finish the job, just like with Bucky, when they could’ve done so a lot easier.

_Oh. Oh this was not good._

Wildy you looked around, a fury building in your chest that would rival anything you had ever felt before. You looked in the eyes of each weapon-brandishing man that stood, suddenly stopping the fight, waiting for something. You bent over, body partially shielding Bucky, daring them to challenge you. In that moment you would have bet you could’ve taken on them all.

But no one stepped forward. Everyone that remained- and there were still a number- hung back.

Slowly a man emerged from inside the warehouse. The mobster and ringleader of this circus, Vicco.

He was small in stature, but his air of authority made him seem much taller than he was. Your initial thought of his insignificant looks was true: pale face, slicked back black hair, gruff combed beard. Really, there was nothing of importance about his looks, it was all in how he held himself.

Instantly you were up, marching towards this man full of anger and determination.

Just as you were about to punch this dick in the face, two hands grabbed your arms and positively catapulted you back, slamming you down on the concrete some feet away. You didn’t care about the shredded skin on your legs or palms or probably broken tailbone. You just care about them: your friend and your Bucky. 

You were several feet away from Steve and a few feet away from Bucky. Again, with the mobster in your sights you tried to get up, only managing to make it to your knees before a couple of the men came up and pushed you back down. Their powerful grip was unrelenting, and they kept you there.

You should have been lucky they didn’t stick you with a syringe either- maybe they knew Steve and Bucky would survive? Because it would be insanely folly for a street thug to kill an Avenger- but you didn’t feel lucky. You felt angry.

Guns were pointed at the lot of you, the leader Vicco milling about towards Steve with his head shaking.

“A great man has been lost tonight, because of your instigation,” he said to Steve, still fighting hard to stay conscious while half the guns in the circle moved to point at him.

From back in the warehouse several thugs brought out a man by his arms and plunked him in the middle of the scene. He was obviously dead, veins popping out and a deep blue, eyes dilated and glossed over, foam crusted on his mouth.

He had overdosed. Poisoned and killed by the serum no doubt. You opened your mouth to state the obvious- that this was clearly because of the drug and the three of you hadn’t even gotten in the warehouse yet- but you snapped it closed.

The thugs must not know what this serum did. The mobster had to blame it on someone though, didn’t he. And he had them so wrapped around his little finger that they would believe it, even with the evidence right in front of them. Your words would be wasted on these idiots, and might put you all in more danger.

_Okay, new mission. Just get them out. Get them safe._

“He was my brother, my friend.” the mobster continued. “And your actions must be answered for.”

Vicco simply had to point to Bucky, and every weapon was trained on him.

As their guns shifted to Bucky, you went from angry to fucking enraged so fast it left your head spinning.

“Touch him and you’re dead!” you screamed, voice completely unhinged. If you hadn’t been pinned down with rough hands on your shoulders, you would have tried to pounce on the fucking sleazeball.

“Oh, we’ve found the favourite, huh?” he said.

“Keep your fucking hands off of him!” you shouted again, spewing the words out like fire.

Bucky was fighting it, shaking and looking to you, arms wrapped around his stomach like he was holding himself together.

“I am a fair man, and I am a reasonable man,” he said, too calm and collected for you, like it was only thinly veiling a dangerous undertone. “The drug I can replicate. But my righthand man? My closest friend? Now that deserves payment.”

He nodded to one of his goons standing over Bucky, and his gun moved down to Bucky’s temple. Your ferocity moved and shifted to a panicked desperation in a flash.

“Wait, no! Don’t!” you screamed. _Shit!_

“And what can you offer in payment?” he asked, curious eyes now edged slightly with hunger.

You looked around, vainly trying to think of something, anything to get Bucky out of here alive. Vicco wanted a body for a body. A righthand man for a righthand man. How the fuck were you supposed to negotiate with that?

Nothing came to you, only tears which started to form in your eyes as helplessness started sinking in.

“I do not think I mentioned that I am _not_ a patient man, so if you have nothing…”

“Don’t, please!” you yelled, tears beginning now to flow down your face. 

One last time, the man waited for you to continue. You swallowed, watching Bucky’s face fall, desperate and pained when you spoke.

“Me,” you whispered. “Please don’t hurt him, just… just take me.”

Bucky practically roared, his desperate fury bubbling over in a rage, fingers breaking in the concrete as he tried to crawl to you. You couldn’t look away from him, scared that if you did, he wouldn’t be the last thing you saw. So you watched his suffering, his helplessness in every yell and ever drop of blood that spilled from his fingers, eyes blazing.

You wanted to move closer, to touch him again and to tell him a hundred things. 

“Just…” you choked, eyes spilling over with tears. “Just let me say goodbye.”

The man hesitated only a second, before answering your request simply.

“No,” 

Then he snapped his fingers.

Suddenly your breath was gone, head cracking back against the pavement, ears ringing and numbing you to any sound. There was nothing but blackness with little white specks above you, sending a ripple of confusion through you. 

It was the night sky, you realized eventually. It was looking down on you. Looking down on your split open body.

You tried to gasp, tried to get up, tried to turn and look to Bucky, tried to feel pain or _any_ thing. But you couldn’t, head spinning and ears ringing, you were lying there alone and numb.

You pulled your hand to your chest, touching down before pulling it up to your face. You fingers were silhouetted by the inky black sky, dark blood dripping down them.

They had shot you. 

You hadn’t saved yourself.

They hadn’t saved you. 

This was it.

Gasping, your body suddenly railed against this realization, shaking and convulsing without your control. You hung on, tears streaming and blooding leaking from your chest and mouth.

Several things clicked in your head briefly, but none so overwhelming as the desire to be near _him_. If this was going to be it- going to be your end- you wanted to spend it with Bucky. Not fighting each other or fighting your feelings for him. Not needing an excuse or reason to be alone. Just together.

But the stars felt as distant from you, as you felt from him. If he was here you would’ve run your fingers along his prickly stumbled cheek. You would’ve kissed him, finally, like you always wanted too. You would’ve spoken his name one more time.

The darkness of the night crept under your skin like ice, moving through your body. You felt your muscles relax as it pulled you in, deeper and deeper. You couldn’t see him, or hear him, or feel him. You couldn’t know that he was safe, that you had really saved him. The only thing you had as the darkness closed your eyes was his name, left unspoken and heart-broken on your lips.

Your Bucky.


End file.
